


Up A Tree

by Evil_Little_Dog



Series: Treed [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Canon - Manga, Community: fma_slashfest, Dubious Consent, M/M, Male Slash, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-09
Updated: 2012-04-09
Packaged: 2017-11-03 08:22:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/379315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Little_Dog/pseuds/Evil_Little_Dog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary:  Greed takes advantage when an opportunity presents itself.<br/>Disclaimer:  Arakawa might be horrified by the things I do to her characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Up A Tree

**Author's Note:**

  * For [enemytosleep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enemytosleep/gifts).



> Written for FMA_Slashfest for the prompt: Any/Any (Any Canon): welcome embrace, falling back into their chest (or being pulled back into embrace, back to chest).

The alchemist’s right forearm is pressed against a tree and a strong, rich scent fills your nostrils as you come up behind him, silent as Pride’s shadows. The alchemist makes a soft noise in his throat, and you catch another sound, of a rough hand rubbing over skin, and it makes you lick your lips. You slide your arm around him from behind, your hand covering his as it moves over his cock. “Let me,” you purr in his ear, and feel his spine stiffen against your chest. 

“Greed, damn it,” he growls, and tries to elbow you, but you’re in the wrong position for it to make any difference. You laugh softly. 

“Trust me, alchemist, you’ll enjoy it more with my hand.” You’re strong, stronger than he is, and you’ve got hold of a very sensitive part of his body - one that’s flagging at this instant - but you have no doubt you can encourage it to rise again. You nuzzle past his hair and close your teeth on the soft skin beneath his ear as your fingers move down his shaft, tickling his balls. “It’s always better when someone else is touching you.” 

The alchemist grunts, and tries to pull away, but your other arm is anchored around his waist, and you’re pushing up against him, keeping him off-balance with your weight pressed into his back. Like the military dog he is, he snarls in protest at your restraint. You lick his throat, curling your tongue around his earlobe, pulling it into your mouth. His stomach quivers under your fingers as your other hand pulls on his prick, feeling it thicken and lengthen in your hand. 

“Believe me, alchemist, you’re going to enjoy this.” 

Inside of you, you feel the little prince’s fists pummeling against your consciousness. _“Leave him alone, Greed!”_

You chuckle inwardly, and ignore the pleas from both of them. You can feel the alchemist starting to react to your touch, against his better judgment, against his own desires. His ass presses into your crotch, and you pump his burgeoning cock, sweeping your fingers down to squeeze his balls, and then gliding back up to pull on his foreskin. The alchemist tries to swallow a groan, his head falling back against your shoulder. You take advantage of that, forcing his chin around. He fights your kiss, but his hips are pumping at your touch. When you run your hand down his chest, you feel his nipples are hard and sharp, and you take the time to tweak one. 

“Damn you,” the alchemist growls, breathless. The prince echoes the curse, but you ignore his attempts to remind you that the alchemist wasn’t part of the deal when he accepted you into his body. You took his body, after all; there were no deals made. After showing the prince a lot of teeth, even more teeth than the alchemist has in his mouth, you turn your attention back to the alchemist. Squeezing the spongy head of the alchemist’s erection, you make the boy groan and thrust into your palm. He quivers in your embrace and his arms are tense and pressed against the trunk of the tree, his knees locked to keep from tumbling to the ground. 

You rub your crotch against his ass, letting him feel how aroused he’s made you. “I could make you feel amazing,” you rumble in his ear, and he swears a steady stream of curses, some that the prince must’ve taught him, since you don’t recognize the language. It doesn’t stop him from groaning when you tighten your grip on him, pumping him harder, dry-humping his ass. You can feel his pulse thundering under your ear, since your cheek is pressed against his throat. He’s squirming and you know he’s close, so very close, so you nuzzle his jaw and pinch the head of his cock, and whisper, “Come for me, alchemist,” and you smile into his skin when he lets go. 

He groans, his ass bouncing erratically against your crotch, sending frissons of electricity through your own cock. His seed stripes the trunk of the tree, warms your fingers. Your teeth bare as he sags into your chest, and you know the only reason he’s standing is because your arm is still wrapped around him. 

The alchemist shudders, trying to catch his breath, and you murmur, “Told you it was better with someone else’s hand,” and this time, when you kiss him, he doesn’t struggle, at least, not until your tongue thrusts into his hot mouth. Then he stiffens, and shoves at you, weak, like all humans are, and fights free of your embrace because you let him. 

The alchemist drags his forearm over his mouth, turns his head and spits. His gaze is furious, and his face is flushed as he tucks his dick back into his pants and closes them up again. “If you come near me like that again,” he growls.

You run the side of your finger against his cheek. “You’ll what?” He nearly leans into that caress but catches himself, snapping his teeth at your hand, and you almost let him grab it, let the dog have his way, but he’s yours already, and you’re not about to give him any additional favors, not yet, anyway. You laugh softly, and pat his cheek, maybe a little harder than necessary, so it stings. “Let me know when you want to feel good again, alchemist. I know how to give you more pleasure than anyone you’ll ever meet.” 

Turning your back on his impotent snarl, you head back to the camp, ignoring the fury of the prince inside you. For now, you have what you want. Sex tangles emotions more than almost any other thing, and you want to make sure this military dog is leashed as close as possible to you. If he ran free, someone else might collar him, and your own greed won’t let that happen.


End file.
